


A Bonnie Life: On Track

by sunalso



Series: Sun Does MCU Kink Bingo 2018 [11]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Bodice-Ripper, Emesis, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Farmer/Heiress au, Pregnancy, Risking Getting Caught, steam engines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 15:46:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16178204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/pseuds/sunalso
Summary: AU. Life is busy for Jemma and Fitz now that they live in Edinburgh, and why do babies have to grow up so fast? A trip by rail to London gives them some much needed alone time and a chance to do a little reconnecting.Beta'd by Fierysky





	A Bonnie Life: On Track

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gort](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gort/gifts).



The train whistle blew, echoing up and down the platform as Jemma pulled her wrap tighter around against the chill spring wind. She stood on tiptoes, looking for Fitz, finally spotting him directing a porter where to put their luggage. His hat was jammed down on his head, and he was bundled against the cold as well. 

They’d already said goodbye to Bobbi and Rabbie, who’d come to see them off. Rabbie had wanted to wait to wave as the train left, heading on its nearly two-day journey to London, but Jemma had sent them home, worried he’d catch a cold. It had felt odd to watch her baby, who was no longer a baby but a sturdy little boy, walking away with his hand in someone else’s. Bobbi  was pregnant, the baby due in the fall, and while Bobbi was over the moon, it had left Jemma feeling decidedly jealous. 

She had her work, of course, and was usually too busy to think much about reproduction outside of the frogs she was currently investigating. Fitz’s job had demanded long hours of him that were only now beginning to slack off. Or they would, after this trip to his employer’s home office in London. She hadn’t wanted to go at first, afraid of running into someone from her past, but when Fitz said he wouldn’t go without her, she’d changed her mind. It’d be a promotion for him, and more chances to spend time together. 

And work on expanding their family. 

She missed the long lazy nights when they’d first gotten to know each other, both in body and mind. They were always so busy now. 

Fitz jogged over to her, having finished securing their luggage. “I can’t believe we’re going first class,” he said, waving the tickets in his hand. 

“Well, you did do significant design work on the engine pulling the train, it would be rather horrendous for them to stick you in the dregs.” 

He laughed and put an arm around her. “I suppose being bored to tears on a plushly cushioned bench is preferable to a hard seat.” He steered her towards the door to their car. 

She glanced at him. He looked as excited as Rabbie did on Christmas morning, but Jemma didn’t think that he’d entirely realized the best part of their rather spacious compartment. All the train windows had curtains, there’d be little to do for many long hours, and most importantly, they’d have privacy.

Jemma was very much planning to seduce her husband. 

The train was lusciously appointed, the finery something she’d once taken for granted but now seemed far too much for her comfort. A steward ushered them to their compartment whilst telling them the schedule for meals and showing  how to summon if they needed help. 

He sketched a quick bow as he shut the door behind them and butterflies took flight in Jemma’s stomach. She and Fitz were finally alone.

Fitz stripped off his coat and hat and placed them on the backwards facing bench, then helped Jemma out of her wrap. His hands lingered on her hips, and a shiver ran up her spine. She settled across from him, pleased to find the seat was comfortable. Fitz lounged against the back of his bench but kept looking out the window. 

When the steward hollered that the journey was starting, Fitz leaned forward and nearly pushed his nose against the glass. A shudder went through the car as the massive engine at the front started moving. The clack of the car’s wheels on the track was a pleasant noise, and she couldn’t help but catch Fitz’s enthusiasm. It  _ was _ terribly exciting. 

As they chugged out of the station, Fitz pulled out his pocket watch and flipped it open. 

“Are we on time?” she asked, peeking at the watch. It’d been her Christmas present to him. 

He waved a hand. “Well, yes, but I’m going to see how fast we’re going. I know some of the track lengths precisely between certain points and knowing the time it takes to travel between those points will allow me to know speed.” 

“Let me have a notebook, and I can help.” 

Fitz patted his pockets and drew out a notebook and pencil. That was still the same as always. He always had something in which to record ideas. She found a blank page and kept notes, working out the math herself. By the time the train left Edinburgh, it was going nearly 15 miles an hour. Jemma was impressed. Fitz sat back and grinned at her. “That’s nothing. Will be at nearly thirty here shortly.” 

“That’s remarkable.” Though she was not sure why anyone needed to go at such a speed. 

“Isn’t it? Two days and we’ll be done with a journey that would take weeks in a carriage.” He stood and retrieved a bag, pulling out reading material from its depths. Jemma accepted a publication and pretended to read it as she started plotting. Fitz seemed absorbed in the article he was perusing, his head bowed, and that simply wouldn’t do at all. 

She let a good hour pass as the train wound its way through a landscape that was still waking up from winter. They passed a field dotted with the white backs of sheep, and Jemma set her article down as memories of delightful nights spent curled with Fitz as he tended sheep flashed through her mind. She looked over to find him watching the sheep as well, and she wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was. 

There wasn’t a chance for her to ask before a maid knocked and brought in tea. It was warm and tasted wonderful, and there were little lemon cakes that she ate more of than she probably needed, though Fitz wolfed down the carrot ones so she was hardly alone. Once the tea service was whisked away, and night had fallen, cutting off their view out the window, Jemma decided it was high time she caught her husband’s interest. 

She rubbed at her neck, feigning stiffness, and untucked her fichu from the front of her dress before pulling the bit of lace off. Fitz didn’t even look at her, though he did glance at the window. 

“I’m going to pull the curtains,” he said, standing and drawing the ones closest to him first. He squeezed in beside her knees, and spent a rather long time arranging the curtains on her side. He was warm and solid, and her heart beat a little faster having him so close. 

Once done, he pulled off his top coat, leaving him in only his waistcoat and shirtsleeves, and  instead of returning to his bench, he sat down beside her. 

Perfect, that would make things easier. Pretending she was simply getting comfortable, Jemma reached up and pulled the pins from her hair, letting it cascade down in waves around her shoulders. She stretched her back, arching it to push her breasts out as she moaned slightly. 

“Better?” Fitz asked. 

“Quite.” She looked over to find him positively lounging against the back of the bench, one arm on the top of the seat and his head propped on his hand. 

“Need me to rub your shoulders?” His voice was a rumble as he rested a hand on her knee. 

She raised an eyebrow as she studied him. He’d taken his tie off at some point, and the collar of his shirt was undone. There was a little nick on his throat from where he’d shaved that morning. He’d even trimmed his beard, and she thought he might have cut his hair. His eyes slid over her before rising to her face as he did his best to smolder. 

The corner of her mouth twitched up. Trust Fitz to have made the same leap of logic that she had about being alone together on a train with nothing much to do. It was no wonder she loved him. 

“Husband,” she cooed. “Are you trying to seduce me?” 

His eyes narrowed, and he pursed his lips. “Is it working?” 

“Well.” She trailed a finger down her chest. “I’m trying the same thing. So why don’t you tell me?” 

Fitz grinned. “I love you so damn much.” He scooted over, and his hand cupped the back of her head as he pulled her into a searing kiss. His other hand caught her wrist and directed her hand down towards his groin. He was hard, and she groaned as she pressed her palm against his cock through the rough material of his trousers. 

He whimpered into her mouth as she caressed him, and his hips bucked up towards her fingers. Their tongues twirled together, and Jemma groaned as her breasts grew heavy and heat pooled low in her belly. 

She moaned softly, then louder as his hand dropped from her hair to dip inside the front of her dress. He pinched her nipple, and she nipped at his lips. 

“Is the door locked?” she managed to ask between kisses. 

Fitz’s eyes were bleary as he glanced towards it. “I don’t think so.” 

Jemma was surprised at the thrill that ran through her. “So anyone could simply walk in and find us in a compromising position?” 

“You’ll have to be quiet,” he murmured as he bent his head and pressed his lips to her neck. “Do you think you can do that?” 

She really should point out that they could lock the door, but Fitz seemed to be as excited as her with the idea that they could be caught in the throes of passion. 

“You too,” she whispered, stroking his cock firmly through his trousers as she said it. He pressed his face against her skin and gave a muffled hiss of pleasure. 

“I’ll manage, wife.” 

She tugged on his hair until he raised his head to meet her gaze. “I’m not wearing any knickers.” 

“Bloody hell,” he cursed, and Jemma had to bite her lip to contain a yell as Fitz somehow yanked her so she was laying on her back on the bench. He shoved her skirts up around her waist and grinned as he uncovered her lower half. “Look at you,” he said. He helped her raise her leg and prop it on the back of the bench, and pushed the other until her toes were on the floor of the car, leaving her wide open to him. “Oh, Jemma,” he said, and her name sounded like a blessing on his lips. 

His fingers caressed her folds, pushing briefly inside her and then sliding up to circle her clit. Her hips jerked, and she had to put her fist to her lips to keep from crying out. He repeated the process of teasing her opening and then rubbing her clit, and she was quivering and pushing towards him in no time. 

It wasn’t lost on her that if someone opened the door, they’d find her sprawled with her sex bare, but she couldn’t quite care as Fitz worked his magic and drove her towards climax. 

“No noise,” Fitz admonished as she yelped as he changed the tempo of his finger on her body. She bit her lip, watching her husband as he concentrated on her pussy, but then her eyes slid closed as an orgasm exploded through her. She bit her arm to muffle her cries. 

The hand on her body left, and she opened her eyes to find Fitz fumbling as he hastened to undo his trousers. He pushed them down far enough to get his cock out, and then he was braced over her and pushing himself deep into her. The last pulses of her bliss made the stretch even more pleasurable and she moaned. 

Fitz looked almost pained as he bent and kissed her, then straightened up slightly. His fingers brushed her cheek, then swept down to cup her breast through her dress. She arched into his touch, but he only growled in the back of his throat. He pulled at the front of her dress, but it didn’t move enough for him to have access to her breasts. 

She started to tell him that he’d have to wait for later when he braced himself and brought the other hand to her bodice. Looking wild, he seized the material, which wasn’t very sturdy, and tore it open. He made a sound of victory as her tits spilled out into his waiting hands. 

Jemma thought she should be cross with him for spoiling her dress, or for the cost of repairing it, but he was kneading her breasts and plucking her nipples as he started to thrust…and really, it was just a dress. 

She lifted her hips to meet each plunge, and her hands skated down his back to grab his ass. The flex of his muscles as he pleasured her always made her giddy. She pulled him towards her, encouraging him to move harder and faster. Not that he needed much spurring to do so. 

The sound of voices in the corridor outside their compartment made both of them freeze. The sound of the car’s wheels clacking on the tracks and their harsh breathing suddenly seemed loud. 

They both craned their necks towards the door, though the voices weren’t loud enough for Jemma to make out what was being said. There was a thump on the door, like someone or something bumped it, but then the voices faded. 

Jemma giggled and slapped a hand over her mouth. Fitz gazed down at her, then he snorted with laughter as well and returned to swiving her with abandon. Their laughter disappeared quickly as she rocked her hips to grind herself more firmly against him. 

Her thighs were shaking but she couldn’t quite…

Fitz pushed himself up slightly, and his fingers found her clit, his cock was hitting just the right spot, and she gasped as a second orgasm caught her. Her toes curled, and her hips jerked hard, making Fitz grunt and grab the back of the bench. 

The pleasure echoed inside her, and when she collapsed onto the plush cushion under her, panting, she felt deliciously satisfied. She reached up and cupped Fitz’s cheek, and he nuzzled her palm. The staccato pistoning of his cock was still sending shocks of pleasure through her in the most wonderful way. With a ragged groan, he thrust one last time deep inside her, and his prick bucked as he spent himself. He ended up half on top of her as he caught his breath, his head resting on her breasts. She stroked her fingers through his hair and enjoyed the simple feeling of being close to the person she felt connected at the heart with. 

Eventually, he straightened up and did up his trousers as she righted herself, smoothed down her skirts, and tutted over the destroyed front of her dress. 

“Sorry,” Fitz said, his cheeks and ears turning pink. “I got somewhat carried away.” 

“It’s more than fine, and I have plenty of dresses with me.” She shook her wrap out, and Fitz helped her arrange it around her shoulders. He kissed her forehead and had just sat down when there was a rap on the door. A steward popped it open a second later. 

“Sir, Madam, your sleeping compartment is ready.” 

“Thank you,” Fitz said, and the man withdrew. He smiled at her. “Good thing it wasn’t ready a few minutes ago.” 

She laughed. “Let’s get some rest, husband. You’ve tired me out.” 

“I’m always happy to do so.” 

****

_ The Return Trip _

Fitz was exhausted. He’d worked like a madman to prove himself to the heads of the railway company and secure a future for his family. It’d been six weeks of long days, some of which lasted far into the night. He’d not seen enough of his wife, though she’d seemed happy enough visiting places in she’d missed and visiting shops to buy clothing for all of them and toys for Rabbie, who they both missed terribly. 

They were finally heading home, and the bank notes in his pocket along with the pats on the back he’d received had been more than enough reassure him that he’d done it. He might have stated with less than nothing, but he had Jemma, a son, and now a promotion that would mean more money and less time toiling in an office. 

And hopefully, more time spent with Jemma while she was on her back. Or he was on his back. Or she was on her hands and knees. That was always such a lovely picture. 

The train whistle blew, and the wheels began to turn, taking them back to where they belonged. 

Jemma had been tired the last little while, but he was still hoping for a repeat of their trip south. It’d been the highlight of an otherwise very busy trip. She’d taken him to see a few things, and out to eat, but he still didn’t feel like he understood London. Not that he was sure he wanted to. 

The steady sound of the wheels and swaying of the car had Jemma asleep quickly. She hadn’t even removed her wrap, just squished herself into the corner of the bench by the window and closed her eyes. Fitz watched the English countryside roll past the window, but Jemma didn’t wake up. When she started to list to one side, he moved to sit beside her so she could lean on his shoulder. He wondered if it was his imagination that she looked pale. 

When tea arrived, Jemma finally stirred. She opened her eyes and yawned, but then her face screwed up. “Oh,” she whispered, sounding incredibly pitiful. 

“Jemma, are you ill?” 

Her nose wrinkled more. “I’m going to be.” At a loss, he grabbed his top hat and rubbed her back as she retched into it. “Sorry,” she said weakly when she could speak again. Fitz felt helpless. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. He hated Jemma being sick. There was so damned little he could do the make her feel better. “Do you think you ate something off?” 

Jemma smiled and leaned against him. “I think you got me pregnant.” 

Fitz had a moment of manly pride, but then Jemma was heaving again, though there wasn’t much more for her to bring up. When she was done, she wiped her mouth, and he kissed her forehead. “You really think so?” he asked trying not to sound too eager. 

“Yes, I think our family is going to grow. Rather serendipitous for us to have conceived on a train.” 

Fitz hugged her. He was relieved that she was only sick from the pregnancy, felt a little guilty that it was his fault she was miserable, but there was also the visions of his wife rounding out with a babe again and exactly how wonderful that had been the first time. He’d worry about the birth itself later.

“I love you, Jemma,” he said holding her close. 

“I dearly love you too, Fitz, but do you think you can find someone to, uh, get rid of...” she gestured at the hat. 

“Yes, of course!” He left her with the tea service and found a steward, who looked less than thrilled to take the hat, then sympathetic when Fitz explained his wife was expecting. The hat was whisked off, and he was given a porcelain bowl for when she needed it next. 

He returned to the compartment to find Jemma looking much happier and shoving lemon cookies in her mouth as fast as she could. 

“You can’t have any,” she said as he sat down. 

“I think I’d lose a hand if I tried.” 

She paused. “Watch it, or I’ll tell Bobbi you were mean to me.” 

Fitz shuddered. “No need to go that far.” 

He poured himself tea and watched Jemma as she finished up her treats. 

After the empty cups and plates were taken away, Jemma didn’t even pretend she was going to read. She pulled the curtains and straddled him. “Want you,” she said, kissing his forehead and cheeks. She paused. “Well, if you can stand to…after you saw…” She trailed off, and her face fell. 

“There’s nothing in this world that could keep me from wanting you. Even a bit of sick because you’re carrying my babe.” 

She smiled shyly. 

“Every day with you is the best day. And I can’t imagine a better life than one spent by your side.” He slid his hands down her back, and she lit up. “Now please tell me the front of this dress is easier to undo than the last one.” 


End file.
